


To The Brave: Royai

by TheTruthOfYourDespair



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-09 05:12:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 19,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8877328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTruthOfYourDespair/pseuds/TheTruthOfYourDespair
Summary: "I wasn't afraid when we were younger. Back then it was so simple.""Why isn't it simple now?""Because of rules and regulations that have to be followed. Without them, we'd all be lost.""Maybe being lost sometimes is a good thing..." • • •Also posted on Wattpad under the username TheBlindBanker





	1. Playlist

• Fullmetal Alchmist OST- Beaming Sunlight 

• Lindsey Stirling ft. Christina Perri- Brave Enough

• Lindsey Stirling- Lost Girls

• Lindsey Stirling- Waltz

• Gothic Storm- We Meet in Dreams 

• Penny and Sparrow- Duet

• Mans Zelmerlöw- Fire in the Rain

• Saint Raymond- I Want You

• Brunuhville- Our Farewell

• Amber Run- I Found

• Celia Rose- The Other Side of Me 

• Fleurie- Hurts Like Hell

• Twenty One Pilots- Can't Help Falling in Love

• Valentin Boomes- Secret Garden

• Jaymes Young- One Last Time

• Epic Pop- The World is Ours

• Two Steps From Hell- Children From The War

(14/10/16)


	2. Apprentice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Roy and Riza meet for the first time

The crisp autumn air was tinged with morning frost, yet the sun managed to shine onto the earth, making everything glisten in its pale light. Dying, crinkled leaves lay strewn over the ground, yet still full of fiery colour. People were up and about walking the streets with bags of groceries, and stopping to make idle chit chat. 

It was almost eleven o'clock when an unforeseen knock on the front door to the Hawkeye manor sounded: there weren't usually visitors so early on in the day, especially on a weekend. This startled young Riza, who was sat in the living room while delving into a reading book. She liked nothing more. 

Looking up from the pages, she became convinced that she was hearing things, but changed her mind when a knock came again. 

She quickly put down her book and got to her feet, consciously unaware that she was combing her fingers through her short, golden-blonde hair to straighten it out. It seemed to have become a habit when the house had guests; appearances were always good first impressions to make. 

Don't want to keep them waiting, Riza thought to herself as she hurried to the door and grasped the doorknob. She turned it, the door slowly squeaking open.  

She was surprised, if not in a pleasant way, to be face-to-face with a handsome young man, who stood with his hands in his trouser pockets, his coat looped through his arm, and a large, brown leather suitcase sat by his feet. The top button of his crisp white shirt was undone and matched with a modish, debonair-like black waistcoat that looked partly worn. His black hair was tousled, and dark eyes stared down warmly at Riza. 

"Can I help you?" Asked Riza. 

"I believe that Berthold Hawkeye lives here," he replied. "Am I right in assuming?"

She nodded in return. "Would you like to come in? I'll go and get him for you."

"Thank you, miss," he said, picking up his suitcase, following Riza into the hallway before she closed and locked the front door. 

"Here, let me take your coat," Riza offered holding out her hand. The young man passed his coat to her, although reluctantly as she didn't have to, and she hung it up on the already cluttered hooks. 

He uttered his thanks again, and then continued on. "Apologies, I should introduce myself: I'm Roy Mustang. I'm Berthold's new alchemy apprentice."

Dazed, Riza turned to him. Her father hadn't mentioned having another apprentice, not after the failure of the last few. It must have been short notice because he hadn't consulted his daughter on it. But no matter, it was nice to have a new face to keep her company. 

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mister Mustang," Riza smiled faintly. "I'm Riza Hawkeye, Berthold's daughter."

"Riza," Roy echoed her name with familiarity and thought. "What a lovely name."

She felt her cheeks go pink. "T-Thank you."

To distract herself from such an unheard of comment, Riza grabbed the handles of his suitcase and hauled it up. It was a struggle, but she could manage. 

"Hey, you don't have to take that," insisted Roy. "I'll do it. You don't want to put too much strain on yourself."

"It's okay, don't worry about it. I'll go and tell father that you're here."

And with that, Riza dragged the case up the stairs and down the corridor, leaving their guest standing in the hallway gazing around at his new environment. 

Riza put Roy's belongings in the spare room that was previously used for Berthold's former apprentices. Of course, the sheets of the bed had been changed, and all the furniture had been dusted down every now and then. It was strange to think that there would be another person, another stranger, in the house. However, Riza was certain that things would be different this time; they'd finally be better. 

Soon after, she left Roy's new room and went to her father's study where Berthold loomed over paperwork and an endless array of books that was piled up on the desk. He struck a pen against the wood like a drumstick - tap, tap, tap- which was getting more annoying the more Riza listened to it, so she cleared her throat, hoping he would stop. 

"Father?" 

"What is it?" He demanded, not looking up from his work.  

"Roy Mustang is here," she replied, fiddling with the hem of her favourite skirt that she was wearing. 

"Who might that be?" The tone of Berthold's voice showed how absentminded he was being. How could he forget? Oh, of course it'd be the work that got in the way. 

"Your new alchemy apprentice."

The tapping stopped abruptly, and there was silence for a brief moment. 

"Hmm," Berthold crooned. "He's early. Nevertheless..." He finally gazed up at his daughter, his cold brown eyes showing signs of exhaustion. "Take his things to his room, and-"

"Already done," interrupted Riza. She tensed up, afraid that he would snap at her doing so. Thankfully, he didn't take notice. 

"Well, in that case, tell him I'll be down in a bit. There's some important work I've got to finish."

Yes. She had been correct about that. About work.  

Riza nodded courteously, and then turned to continue on back through the hallway and down the stairs. Whatever Berthold's 'important work' was she would never know, and neither did she want to know; it was bound to be something out of the ordinary or something top secret. Probably the latter. Her father naturally worked like that, and Riza learned to never ask questions. 

Roy was fiddling with the buttons on his waistcoat, undoing them and doing them up again, as she descended the staircase. Riza was amused by how subtly childish he was, but then realised that she had made him wait there with no idea of what to do or where to go next. 

"Sorry to keep you waiting," she apologised, stepping gracefully off the stairs and onto the ground, and then having to tilt her head slightly to look up at Roy as he was several inches taller than herself. 

"Don't worry about it," he said, smoothing down his waistcoat when he's finished doing up the last button. "I've been busy speculating anyway."

Riza smiled faintly. "Father said he'll be down shortly. He's just finishing something important off," she then told him, gesturing for Roy to follow her into the kitchen. 

"That's okay. I can wait," he replied, trailing closely behind Riza as if he would get lost inside the large house if he separated from her. 

"Can I get you anything in the meantime?"

"Tea would be nice," he grinned softly, scanning the surrounding kitchen with awe as he sat himself down at the large oak table; he'd never been so mesmerised by kitchen utensils, appliances, and decoration. 

Roy was clearly still impressed by the Hawkeye's grand house and its grand furnishings. He obviously wasn't used to such an environment. 

He also felt incredibly out of place inside this marvellous house, but of course, he'd have to get used to it; the manor would be his home until the end of his studies, whenever that was going to be.

Roy also couldn't avoid the fact that his host's daughter was rather winsome, particularly for her age. She seemed quite intelligent, and was very friendly and well-mannered. However, there was something else going on. The way Riza spoke seemed to be quiet and restricted. She appeared to be confident, but deep down there wasn't much of that- it was her forced façade. Although, she was brave enough to talk to strangers (namely himself) in a manner that would be expected of a very social person. And for Roy, that would suffice nicely. 

"So, where have you travelled from?" Questioned Riza, placing down a steaming mug of tea on the kitchen table in front of him, breaking Roy's train of thought. 

She joined him by taking a seat on the opposite side, putting her own mug down and straightening out her skirt as she settled. 

"Central," he responded, thinking fondly of home. "And believe me it's not like it is here. In fact, it's nicer in the East." 

"I've never been to Central," she uttered thoughtfully. "Father's been countless times. What's it like?"

"Packed. In some areas there's barely room to breathe," replied Roy with a soft laugh, then taking a gulp of tea. "It's nothing compared to this place."

"You make the East seem better than it really is. It's boring out here. I'm sure Central is wonderful."

"Depends where you go, like it is with anywhere, I suppose... I could take you one day."

Riza's eyes lit up. She had never been away from the East and had begged her father several times to take her to the other regions of Amestris, but every time he would refused. Berthold was stubborn like that. 

"Of course, we'd have to get to know each other first," Roy added. 

"You're too polite," Riza pointed out half-jokingly, intertwining her fingers through the handle of the mug. 

Roy laughed. "I try to be. Anyway, there's not much else I can say to you since I've only been here five minutes and you've already done things for me. I feel like I'm intruding."

"Oh, no, not at all. You're most welcome here. After all, this is your home from now on."

"Still trying to get used to that... How long have you been here?"

"All my life," she answered, followed by a sip of tea. "It just seems so big for just two people."

Roy felt a familiar sinking feeling in his stomach. "Your mother...?"

"Died when I was very young. My father brought me up, but he's quite the recluse and is always in his study doing work, or is away on business."

"I see you're not very happy about that," he pointed out, drumming his finger tip gently against the side of the mug. "I mean, of course you wouldn't be. And you seem quite confident- independent, even- which is a benefit of it. Not that there's benefits of not having your father around-"

Riza chuckled softly. "Now you're just rambling, Mister Mustang."

"I do that sometimes," he smiled awkwardly before pausing and saying: "And please, it's just Roy."

"Okay, Just Roy."

Berthold soon appeared from the grip of his dreary study and gave introductions to his new apprentice, while Riza went back to reading her book. Soon after, however, she was ordered to show Roy to his room and to make sure he knew which rooms he could and could not enter- the usual routine that Riza had done several times. It was almost as if she had a readymade script inside her head with stage directions and everything else. 

After all, 'the world's a stage and all the men and women merely players....'

 

(14/10/16)


	3. Solace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Riza insists she can't dance, but Roy makes her do it anyway

Three Years Later...  
______________

Silence. Eternal silence. 

That would be the case if there wasn't the faint sound of music playing, filling the night air with notes of perfection. 

Riza found solace in music. She enjoyed it more than anything, particularly when she was alone, and had grown accustomed to it over the past couple of years. Her eyes were closed tight as she pictured herself dancing to its slow and melodic voice. However, Riza couldn't dance, so the next best thing was to imagine. Sometimes she had nothing but her imagination.

Somewhere else in the house was Roy Mustang, sitting at a desk and studying alchemy. His dark hair drooping over his eyes as he read books and texts, which he had been doing for most of the day. Nevertheless, he couldn't help but listen to the quiet music that drifted eerily through the hallways. 

Roy looked up tiredly from his books and he too closed his eyes and focused on the sounds. He knew that Master Hawkeye didn't play music unless he had some sort of party or when he had other guests around (and he'd been out since the sun came up), so the only person who could be doing such a thing was his daughter, Riza. 

Riza. 

In Roy's eyes (and no doubt most other people's), she was a beautiful young woman with soft brown eyes that usually smiled whenever she was around. She had also been bold enough to cut her silky blonde hair short, despite disapprove from the women in her life and just about everyone else. He admired her for being exemplary. 

Roy would never forget the day that they had met, and would cherish the memory for years to come. Although, he'd always thought that Riza's notion of him was negative and that he was just another alchemy apprentice just like the one before him and the one before him. But as time went on, they'd developed with maturity to live together, and Roy found deep comfort in Riza's company. 

It was only on a rare occasion, usually when Master Hawkeye was away from the house and when day turned into night, that Riza could be heard singing. Her voice was almost melancholic, merging with the sadness of the music. 

Roy sat back in his chair and smiled, listening. Just listening. He'd figured that she was a woman of surprises, but he never thought that singing was a talent of hers (and not even after these few years together). Well, Roy thought it was a talent, Riza's opinion might differ. 

I've seen you carry family  
And all my insecurities  
One by one, they'll come undone  
When we get home...

The music continued to haunt the house, it seemed to echo and then sink into the walls. 

Roy rose from his chair, his legs stiff, and made his way over to the door. He slowly turned the doorknob and entered into the shadows of the hallway. The floorboards groaned and creaked under his footsteps, yet it didn't bother him as Roy was too distracted by the music that floated through the night air. 

Because I've seen you  
And I know you  
And I'm not going anywhere...

The sounds were coming from the library. They were getting closer. Closer. Shafts of light escaped through the slight crack in the open door, and streamed through the gap at the bottom. 

Roy leaned against the doorframe and pushed it open further to reveal Riza sitting on the desk, a book open on her lap, and her fringe shielding the left side of her face. 

As the song came to an end and was changing to the next one, Riza looked around and glanced in the direction of the door. Her cheeks turned pink and hot in embarrassment 

She closed her book, threw it down, and jumped off the table. She didn't expect Roy to be stood in the doorway listening to her singing. 

"I-I hope you haven't b-been there long," she stuttered. 

"Not at all," he reassured her as he strolled into the room, then proceeding to smile. "I didn't know you could sing so well."

Riza shrugged, suddenly wary and self-conscious. "I-It's just a hobby. Besides, I must apologise; I didn't realise that the music was distracting you from studying."

"Don't worry about it. I came looking for some books, but I needed a break anyway."

That was a half-lie. Roy did need books for his studying, but the main reason he came was to see and listen to Riza. Her magnetism was naturally powerful, and he found it sometimes difficult to stay away from her. 

There was a silence between the two, the record still playing quietly in the background. With her cheeks still pink from feeling sheepish, Riza fiddled with the cuff on her shirt sleeve, ignoring the fact that Roy was staring at her with soft, dark eyes and a gentle smile tugging at his lips.

"What?" She questioned defensively. 

"Nothing," Roy put his hands up in mock surrender. 

"Well, quit staring then!"

"I'm not staring!"

Riza folded her arms defensively. "Yes, you are!"

"I'm just admiring," he insisted. "You're an admirable person."

She smiled and sighed. Riza thought of Roy as repossessing with a suave attitude. She also knew for a fact that he was the commendable one, and didn't even have to try for it. It was just natural for him. 

"You want something, don't you?" She asked, half-jokingly. 

"I just..." Roy tried to answer, but thought he'd be better off not doing so, even though he knew exactly what he wanted. Instead, he said: "do you know those alchemy books are that I came looking for?"

Without a word, Riza turned and headed over to the nearest corner of the room, scanning the shelves for a minute or so as Roy watched her intently. 

Eventually she came back with three different coloured leather-bound books. "I'm sure these are the ones," she said, handing them to Roy. 

"How did you guess?" He smirked. 

"Luck," Riza replied firmly. "Now, you'd best get back to the study before my father gets back. He'll kill you if you're not doing what you're supposed to."

"Hmm. I wouldn't be surprised if he does kill me one day."

She chuckled. "He just might."

"But you'll sing later, right?"

Riza was taken aback by his request. Nobody had taken such an interest in her singing before, but was joyful anyhow. "If it gets you to leave quicker, then yes." 

Roy grinned. "Can't argue with that. See you later."

"Bye," she waved as she watched him leave the library and close the door quietly behind him. 

Roy departed back to the study where he set down his books. He didn't hear the front door open or close, he didn't hear the footsteps ascend the staircase, and was alarmed when the door to the study opened. A middle-aged man entered the room and Roy soon relaxed when he realised it wasn't an intruder. And that's when he knew that he made it back just in time. 

Berthold Hawkeye was a fierce and intimidating man with a very stern gaze and he held himself like a military general: tall and proud. Age wasn't doing him any favours, though. Not young and not old, Berthold's long hair was greying earlier than most men's, and his eye wrinkles reflected stress. 

"How's your studying been today?" He asked Roy, taking off his coat and setting down his briefcase. 

"Good, I think," he replied. Roy was always apprehensive in Master Hawkeye's presence, but continuously strived to please and impress the older man. 

"'I think' isn't good enough, Mustang. What you need is more dedication."

Roy hung his head, staring down at his feet. "Yes, sir."

"I have to go out again tomorrow," said Berthold, cleaning his glasses with a handkerchief and then placing them carefully into the top pocket of his jacket. "I expect to see more progress by the time I get back."

Roy nodded in understanding. 

"Good," he picked up his coat and case again. "And get some rest too. I can't have you slacking if you want to learn this kind of alchemy."

"Yes, sir."

Berthold's mouth hinted a smile, but got no further than a twitch. He turned and departed the study, leaving Roy in silence.

Although, it wasn't complete tranquility. 

A short while later, when the sky was totally dark, when candle light lit up the study, and when Roy was sure that Master Hawkeye had gone to bed, music began playing again. 

Riza had kept her word. He was pleased to hear her mellifluous voice once again as he sat back in his chair and closed his eyes, inadvertently drifting into a deep sleep...

 

(17/10/16)


	4. Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riza could never dance without believing she had two left feet. But what's the harm in trying again?

The following morning, Master Hawkeye had left the house without telling his daughter, which Riza was naturally disappointed by. Although, her disappointment was outlived as she soon found herself in her the library playing music on the gramophone again. 

By this time, Roy had managed to shake himself from the clutches of sleep. His body ached from being sat in the same wooden chair all night long and could barely stand. When he did, he found the sun's rays projecting into the room, which was always a welcome sight. 

It was once again another cold autumn morning in which the frost glistened as it clung to anything it could find. It was like the most precious of diamonds, but more easily melted. The leaves curled and shrivelled under the feet of the passerby people as they made their way through town, crunching as if to be screaming out for the spring and summer to return. 

Roy had to gather every bit of energy he had within him just to stand up. He groaned as he felt his muscles relax after a stretch, and also when he yawned- the last sign of sleep. He was now ready for a new day. A new day of... Studying. 

He forced himself to be positive about it, however. If he was going to be a marvellous alchemist and rise through the ranks of the military to get the ultimate prize- the Führer's throne- then he'd have to start somewhere. Every great person in history started with the basic stuff, right? 

It might be some big, wild, (almost impossible) dream, but Roy's determination burned brightly. There was some chance. There was. 

Besides, Roy enjoyed learning alchemy a hell of a lot; he'd always been interested in how it worked and how it helped other people. And now that he finally got the opportunity to become educated in its wonders, he sounded ungrateful, especially to Master Hawkeye, to whom it was a massive honour to be serving under as his apprentice. 

Furthermore, he saw this as a chance to prove himself to both the Hawkeyes, and also his Aunt, Madam Christmas, who was a ferocious woman with a heart of gold. Roy strove to make her proud and he wasn't prepared to stop any time soon, so (he supposed) he had to carry on whether he liked it or not. Hopefully, he'd be able to do some practical work some time in the near future. After all, Master Hawkeye did promise.

______________

 

Later that morning, just before noon, Riza was sat on the floor in the library, a book resting on her lap. She was sat by the window rather than on the desk, so there was plenty of natural light. The sun had also reached its peak in the sky, making everything slightly warmer and making Riza enjoy the day more. 

The gramophone was still spinning, music rising from its mechanisms. She wondered whether it was bothering Roy and his studies, but was too engrossed in the story she had delved into for the thought to prey on her mind any longer. 

Riza found the tranquility of the late morning to be extremely pleasant. Her father wasn't around to send her about doing chores and silly errands for him, and he wasn't around to spoil the peace she was enjoying immensely. Sometimes Riza was glad Berthold spent a lot of his time doing God-only-knows-what away from the house, but it was mainly because she had spent so much of her time alone that she'd gotten comfortable with it. He had never really been around for her when she needed him, and Riza occasionally wondered whether her father gave a damn about her, whether he actually wanted to be her dad at all. 

As she continued reading, a quiet knock came at the door, and it opened second later. Roy strolled in, his shirt creased, the sleeves rolled up, and his dark hair wild and messy. He gave a small smile to Riza, as she laughed and said: "Well, I'm glad you knocked this time."

"Yeah, I learned my lesson. It turns out that you're quite the crocodile when you're grumpy."

"Crocodile?" Riza repeated, amused by his choice of words, then realising what he meant. "I only snapped at you because you were eavesdropping."

"I wouldn't say eavesdropping," corrected Roy. "Like I said yesterday, I was admiring."

She rolled her eyes. "Say what you like. I still think it's eavesdropping."

There was a short pause. The pair listened to the passing traffic, the barking of a neighbour's dog, and the muffled melodies coming from the corner of the room. 

"So, can I help you with anything, Roy?" Riza asked eventually, making their interaction less awkward. 

"Well, taking the opportunity of Master Hawkeye's absence, I thought I'd come up and listen to your music with you," he answered. "Or..."

"Or?" She tilted her head slightly out of curiosity. 

Roy didn't reply. He simply made his way over to the gramophone and changed the song with the needle to something a bit faster. Riza pondered on what he was trying to endeavour, but soon found out when he placed his arms steadily in the air like he was holding an invisible person. 

"Care to dance with me?"

Riza let out a chuckle. "I might be able to sing, but I'm no good at dancing. Far from it, in fact." 

Roy shrugged with a smile, his arms still in the air. "So? Practice makes perfect, right?"

Riza sighed, giving in. She got to her feet, paced across the room, and stepped forward into Roy's arms; their bodies inches away from each other. Placing one hand on his shoulder and the other in the palm of his own hand, Riza tried to let her mind stray from the negative thoughts she was having about dancing with a partner for the first time. 

Like he said, practice makes perfect. Surely it can't be that bad. 

Roy's other hand rested upon her waist, which was a brand new sensation. She had certainly never let anybody else try dancing with her, let alone the most handsome young man she'd ever met offering to skip his study time to practice with her. 

However, Roy's artful smile was hard to resist, and even though dancing wasn't her forte, she wasn't afraid to try.

"I must warn you, I'm not the best," she told him, honestly and awkwardly. 

"Well, like I said, we can change that with a bit of practice."

Riza thought it was strange to be dancing with a partner for the first time. It almost felt forbidden. However, she was now growing up and she told herself that she was old enough to make her own decisions because this was her life. Nobody else's.

Riza watched intently, trying to memorise the steps, beaming brightly as Roy pirouetted her around. This was a new experience, and this was the most fun she'd had in years. They danced as amateurs, but somehow felt like professionals. Maybe it was because no-one was around to watch and judge, or maybe it was because they had each other. 

"Not the best, huh?" Roy said, absorbed in the moment. "You're better than what you let on, Riza."

"Well, I have a very good teacher," answered Riza, still grinning. And at that moment they let go of each other, letting their hands fall to their sides. 

He grinned back, but his expression then quickly flattened out into inquisitiveness. "So, why have you never been taught?"

"Father doesn't like me listening to music. He says it's distracting."

Roy frowned. "That's ridiculous."

"That's my father."

He looked down on her as she thought and then spoke again. 

"Usually, I dance with my imagination. As weird as that sounds, it's the closest I ever got to... This."

"Surely this is better than imagining."

"Of course. And it's better than I could have ever hoped."

Roy gave a satisfied smile. "You still need to improve on your footwork, though."

Riza smacked his arm playfully. "Rude."

"Every beginner needs critique. And that's the only thing I can give you, so you're doing pretty damn well."

She smiled. "I'm flattered, however I can't take all the credit."

Roy opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, the unanticipated chiming of the grandfather clock echoed through the room. 

"Oh, look at time," Riza exclaimed in a sudden outburst. She dashed back to the spot by the window where she had been reading to pick up the book. Roy eyed her as she frantically brushed her hand over the cover as if to be dusting it, and then placing it back in an empty gap on the closest shelf. 

"What's gotten you so manic, Riza?" He questioned. 

"I'd said to Rebecca that I'd meet her at twelve o'clock," she responded hurriedly. "And look at the time! She's going to be on my case for the next few hours... Sorry, but I have to go. Thank you for the dance, Roy, it was wonderful."

Roy cracked a smile, entertained by Riza's hasty, out-of-character behaviour. It was unusual, yet he liked seeing her with a bit more energy than she tended to have. 

"Anytime," he said simply, watching as she left the library with a joyful expression painted across her rosy-pink face.

Roy was left solitary in the dusty, hushed library with his hands tucked into his trouser pockets, unknowing that his shirt sleeves had slipped undone and were unbuttoned at his wrists. He didn't notice, he didn't care. All he did care about, however, was the fact that he had danced (or what he wanted to call dancing, even if it was just a bit of uncoordinated fun) with a most exceptionally beautiful girl. Perhaps it was going to be the only opportunity he was ever going to get. 

Who knows. The future was unclear, but looked brighter than Roy could ever have wanted. Well, it would be if he had the motivation to carry on with studying. It was one of life's minor problems, yet he had no complication in completing it. 

Roy gave one last glance to the books and the gramophone before exiting the library, finally mentally prepared to push on through the unfortunately large textbook that Master Hawkeye gave to him...


	5. Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which nightmares turn into unexpected compliments

Riza awoke in the dead of night, surrounded by the darkness of her room. She could hear the quiet, yet soothing irregular tip-tapping of rain on the window, and the pounding of her heart echoed through her body after waking from a bad dream. It wasn't often that Riza got nightmares, yet when she did, they were wicked and never allowed her to get back to sleep no matter how hard she tried. 

She was tangled in her bedsheets, the smooth material gripped tightly in her fists, bolt upright and staring at the painting of a far away countryside that was hung on the wall opposite to her bed. It appeared to be coloured with different shades of blue because of the darkness, but it did look oddly mesmerising. 

It had been a few months since her first dance with Roy, and she still recollected that very morning when we she felt lonely. Ever since then, Riza found herself falling for her father's apprentice due to his talents, charm, intelligence, and kindness. It was almost surreal; she had never been in love before and often told herself not to fall victim to it. 

As she rubbed her eyes, she tried to push the thought out of her mind, but it was incredibly difficult. So, as a consequence, Riza decided to get up and wander around the house like she would do on these rare occasions. 

Feeling chilly, she firstly wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and it draped down to her knees, instantly sending her body warmth. The hallway was almost pitch black, except for the eerie blue lighting of the midnight hour. She had no concerns in waking her father as he slept like a brick when he had spent the day away from the house, but still took precautions by stepping carefully to avoid the creaky floorboards, which were quite the nuisance. 

Riza firstly went down to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water before going into the living room where she sat by the window for a while, gazing out on the street that was brightly lit by street lamps and the odd illumination coming from the nearby apartments and houses. The kind of light and darkness was her favourite contrast, and usually took her mind off the stupid nightmares. 

It was the way the city looked at peace during this time of the night. Nothing moved, nothing spoke. It made Riza feel like she was the last person on Earth and she was the only one that could enjoy its tranquility. Although, she knew that many other people would still be awake at this time and were sharing the moment. 

After a little while, Riza put her glass back in the kitchen and returned upstairs to have a walk around the hallways. It was only when she did this that she really took notice of the paintings, pictures, and photographs that were placed on the walls. Berthold wasn't a massive fan of this idea, but when Riza's mother was alive she liked to go around hanging them up, so he never argued against her. 

Riza missed her mother terribly, even though she was quite young at the time of her death. She only had fragments for memories about her and relied on the photographs to make her own image of what she was like. Riza had always been disappointed in the fact that her father had never spoken to her about her mother, and used to pester him a lot about it when she was younger. However, she gave up after a few years of asking because she dejectedly realised that she wouldn't get an answer and probably never would. 

She eventually came to her father's study where Roy was still reading. He looked like he hadn't slept in days (which he occasionally did) and was slouching over a thick, yellowing book. 

"Roy?"

Riza's voice startled him, and he almost knocked a stack of books off the desk with his elbow. 

"Oh, hello, Riza," he said drearily, then staring at her for a brief second. "Are you alright?" 

"I..." She began, feeling silly and self-conscious at the fact the she had interrupted important study time (even if it was the middle of the night) and that she would have to hell him about some doltish nightmare that Riza couldn't even remember, but had been so horrifying enough to keep her awake. 

"It was just some... Bad dream."

"What kind?"

"The bad one."

Roy laughed, and closed his book, pleased that he could finally do so. "But you look like you've seen a ghost."

"I'm fine," she insisted, running her hand through her hair. "Honest."

Roy gave a crooked smile. "Try and go back to sleep then. Otherwise you'll be tired tomorrow."

"What about you?" Asked Riza, sitting on top of the desk- a gesture to show that she wouldn't be leaving anytime soon. "You've been up since five o'clock yesterday morning. Aren't you tired?"

He shrugged. "Yes and no. But I have to memorise a couple of things before Master Hawkeye tests me when he gets home, and I can't remember for the life of me."

"Tell me about the things you have to learn," she suggested. "That way you might be able to memorise them and I'm learning at the same time, even though I won't be able to do alchemy." 

"Hmm. That's not a bad idea."

"Okay. So where do we begin?"

______________

"All is one, and one is all."

Puzzled, Riza furrowed her eyebrows. It sounded more of a riddle than an alchemy teaching. 

Roy had been 'teaching' for the past three quarters of an hour, but it felt like they'd only been talking for minutes. How time flew. 

They were now both sat on the floor with their backs against the front of the desk, facing towards the window and the drawn scarlet-red curtain covering it. Riza's large blanket had been put to good use; the two were cosily wrapped up in it as they huddle together, books spread out around them. 

It wasn't particularly comfortable, nevertheless it would suffice for a little while longer. It's not like it was important. 

Despite her confusion in the topics of exploration, Riza was quite enjoying it. She was hearing of things that she never knew existed, and had perceived that it was almost one in the morning, but didn't take much notice. She wasn't tired. She was too engrossed in Roy's passionate speaking. 

"It means that all is the world, and I am at one with the world," explained Roy. "For example, a rabbit will eat grass and then that grass will become part of that rabbit in the form of nutrients and energy. Then the same will go for a fox once it consumes the rabbit, and so on and so on. The animals become part of the world, as do us humans."

"Like the food chain?"

"Kind of. It's a lot more complex than that; I haven't quite grasped it yet."

"I bet you know more than most other people."

Roy shrugged. "It's just practice."

"Is this what you've been doing every single night?" Riza asked, glancing at the flickering candles on the desk and then back to Roy. 

"Pretty much. And it's what Master Hawkeye is testing me on- the basics of alchemical theory. I just want to do some practical activity."

"Well, when you do, please don't blow anything up," warned Riza, the corner of her mouth curling into a smile. 

"I'll try my best, but I can't promise anything."

The two laughed, the laughter then fading into silence. 

"So what about these nightmares of yours? They don't happen often, do they?" Roy questioned inquisitively, eventually shattering the silence in the room. Comfortably, he pulled the blanket further over his shoulder, waiting patiently for an answer. 

Riza considered lying to him for a brief moment. She couldn't do it, however, and just had to be totally candid. 

"No, but I guess it just depends," she uttered, twiddling her thumbs awkwardly. "They were more frequent when I was younger. Now it's just occasional."

"Do you know what causes them?"

Riza shook her head. 

"What are they about?"

"I must apologise for being so vague, but I have no idea. I don't recollect them; I try not to. It'll just make me feel worse."

Roy stared at her thoughtfully. "And what do you do to keep your mind off them?"

Riza thought that this 'teaching' session was turning into therapy. She hated all the attention and focus to be fixed on her, yet she felt the need to talk about things to Roy since she couldn't do so with her father. 

"I like to look at the stars."

Roy didn't say anything- he didn't have to- so be just listened

"They're the little specks of light amongst the darkness," continued Riza, submerged in the muse of her philosophical thoughts. "The hope amongst the evil. It's comforting to see them twinkling in the night sky, looking down on us humans like they have been doing for millennia."

She paused to sigh. She was exhausted, yet her tiredness didn't particularly bother her at this moment, and had pushed the feeling away. 

"I feel stupid for saying this, but I sometimes get scared when the moon and stars aren't around. There's no light then, and I've always seen that as a bad omen."

There was a pause before Roy answered. He had contracted the philosophical vibes and seemed to be enthralled in their early morning discussion. 

"The stars will show the way through the dark. There's no need to be afraid. They will guide you, even if you can't see them because they're still there. They're still watching over us all."

His tone was soft and reassuring, making Riza feel more secure. She hated feeling weak just because of some silly nightmare that wasn't even real; a nightmare that made her appear to be like a whiny child. And to top it off, she still felt awful for making Roy stay up with her. 

"Do you read poetry?" She questioned. 

"Not really. Why?"

"What you just said sounded poetic, that's all. Alluring, nevertheless. You do know how to make me feel better, Roy."

"I do try, Riza."

He gazed down at her with a sideways smile. 

That damn smile. 

It was almost devilish, charming to match Roy's personality. Riza felt butterflies flutter in her stomach as she grinned softly in return. 

Truthfully, it was only at this moment when Riza noticed how (not that he already was) handsome Roy was becoming. His cheekbones were prominent, and his mop of dark hair framed his face. His equally dark eyes were stern, yet they somehow managed to shine happily under the stars.

Roy, too, showed similar sentiments for his companion. He loved the fact that Riza had short hair; it made her fierce despite her gentle heart. Her chocolate-coloured eyes were almost like his own, and the strangest thing was that he felt and emotional connection when he stared into them. 

This was only the beginning.

"How is it that you can say such beautiful things?" Asked Riza. 

"Saying beautiful things isn't hard if they so happen to be spoken to a beautiful girl."

Riza laughed, resting her head on his shoulder as all the remaining energy in her body was zapped. "That's just slick."

"That's just true," Roy seemed to correct, resting his own head on top of hers.

"Are you flirting with me?" She inquired, wanting to see the reaction on his face. 

"I want to impress my teacher's daughter, don't I?" He said with another of his famous smug sideways smile. 

"I don't know. Do you?"

"Yes. Yes, I do."

Triumphant, Riza nudged his arm with her elbow. "I knew it. I knew you couldn't resist me."

"Modest," mumbled Roy in a sarcastic tone, prodding her back. 

Riza thought (with total honesty) that Roy Mustang was different from all the past apprentices that Berthold Hawkeye had previously taken on. All of them that been far too ambitious, power hungry, dismissive, and rude. That's why they had all failed within weeks on beginning their studying and training. 

On the other hand, Roy was a keen learner, respectful of the power and material that came with flame alchemy, caring, understanding, and intelligent. Berthold had been reluctant to recruit Roy because of bad past experiences, but he soon realised that he'd made the right decision. Roy took to the alchemy like a duck to water, and had majorly impressed Riza's father on numerous occasions, particularly in the practical area (which to Roy's disappointment was once in a blue moon).

"I think you should go back to bed now, Riza," suggested Roy, his voice a delicate whisper. 

Riza shifted so she felt more relaxed, her head still upon his shoulder. "Just five more minutes here."

"Hmm," he wasn't convinced. "By five minutes you mean the rest of the night, don't you?"

"You know me so well."

"Okay. Fine. Just five more minutes..."


	6. Crisis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy's attempt at practical flame alchemy doesn't go as well as planned

The sun had finally decided to come out, making the iciness of the autumn disappear pleasingly. It was finally nice to have some good weather, but Riza didn't know what to do with it. She could always meet up with Rebecca. Or go out for a walk. Or read. Or schoolwork. The decision was indeed a difficult one, and was more difficult than necessary.

For Roy, however, he knew exactly what he was going to do today. Master Hawkeye had to go and visit some enigmatic acquaintance (and Roy thought he didn't have any of them because being secluded in his study all day meant that he didn't communicate with many others), so he took the opportunity to finally have a go at some practical alchemy. 

He was kneeling down in the garden on the paved walkway just on the outskirts of the grass, surrounded by leather bound books- both thick and thin. Most of them were open as he conducted last minute research into the matter. 

"So, that array goes there," he mumbled to himself, drawing out a transmutation circle with a stick of white chalk. "And that one goes there..."

After a short while, he'd completed the circle. Straightening his back, Roy stared down at it proudly. "Master Hawkeye will be pleased," he continued to himself. "I've been reading for months and hopefully... It'll pay off."

Meanwhile, Riza had come to the conclusion that nothing could be done about her boredom. It was impossible for her to have a set decision on what to do, so began to wander the hallways of the manor in an attempt to find Roy and ask for his opinion. 

Although, Roy wasn't in the study. He wasn't in the library either. Riza was certain she'd find him in either of these two places as he was yet to be found elsewhere in the house during the daytime. She scanned the library, as if to be searching for answers, trying to figure out where he could be. 

Maybe he's gone out with friends for a while, she thought, then leaving the library and closing the door with a quiet click behind her. 

Nevertheless, she persisted in her hunt for the alchemy apprentice. 

"Roy?" Riza called, his name reverberating through the silent, empty hallways. 

"Where is he?" She muttered to herself as she continued on and down the stairs, her hands resting inside the pockets of her tatty, yet favourite plum-purple cardigan. 

Riza was vexed at the fact that the back door had been left ajar and was letting in cold air from outside. She stormed over to close it, only to realise that Roy was outside. She'd finally found him, but what was he doing? 

Still sat in his semicircle of literature, he stared at the pages of large and very detailed book. He'd turned over the page every few seconds, skim reading. 

Hurriedly, Riza stepped outside, buttoning up her cardigan. Advancing towards Roy. 

"What on earth are you doing!?"

Her sudden shriek startled him. He quickly turned to face Riza as her eyebrows furrowed displeasingly and she folded her arms, disapproving of what he was about to do. 

"Alchemy?" His timid answer came out as more of a question. Roy didn't like it very much when Riza was angry; she was as terrifying as Master Hawkeye when in this state. 

"Well, father won't be very happy when he sees that his perfectly arranged garden has been turned into an experiment," she retorted. 

"But, Riza, I'm practicing."

"Practicing what exactly?" 

"More advanced transmutations and flame alchemy's uses within them," replied Roy, pointing to the chalk circle. "I thought I'd give it a shot while I could."

Inwardly smiling, Riza tilted her head slightly. She didn't really have any objections to this because she wanted him to practice, but knew there could be disastrous consequences due to the fact that Roy had never done this prior to now. She then walked up by his side, saying: "let's see what you've got then." 

Roy's eyes lit up, grinning at her implicit consent. "Watch, and be amazed."

She laughed. "That'll be the day I eat my cardigan, Roy."

He ignored her remark, turning back around and clapping his hands together before placing them on the transmutation circle. A spark of blue lightening erupted like lava from a volcano, giving way to flash of orange and gold. Fire ignited from the circle, its heat immediately felt. It shot from where it was created towards the direction of Master Hawkeye's garden, towards the roses and petunias. 

Silence occurred. An awkward silence. Roy stared, mouth gaped at the crackling flames, at the damage he'd done. Riza, too, looked on in disappointment, but was amused at the spectacular failure. 

"Crisis averted!" He yelled, then looking at Riza and her horrified expression. 

"What are you talking about? It blew up!" Riza exclaimed, gesturing to the cluster of flames by the tree and bushes. 

"Oh," he then gazed back, eyes widened. "Was that the crisis?"

"Of course it was!"

"I thought that the crisis was how my almost-correct drawing didn't work out very well, or that it was something more serious then a small fire. And I thought that there was some massive bomb going off that killed thousands."

"Yeah, thousands of my brain cells," she replied, rolling her eyes. "God, Roy, you're such an oaf."

"Am not," said Roy with a big grin, then folding his arms. "If that was the first result, then think of the next ones."

Riza took a cautious step backwards. "I'd rather not, thank you. Next thing you know, the military will be round arresting you for arson."

Roy laughed. "They wouldn't arrest me though as you caused the fire."

She raised an eyebrow, knowing something was about to follow. "How so?" 

"Because you're so smoking hot."

Riza gaped, then slapped Roy over the head with the palm of her hand. "Say that again and arson won't be the only thing I'll get detained for."

He laughed again, rubbing the back of his head. "So, you admit it?"

"What can I say? I'm irresistible."

"Very much so."

"I swear, if you're trying to flirt with me, Roy Mustang, I'm going to kill you."

"Of course I'm trying to flirt with you, Riza Hawkeye. It's also a natural talent of mine."

"Oh yeah? Since when?" She questioned, her eyebrow still raised. 

"Since the day I was born," his grin grew wider, turning into a childish giggle. 

"You're so cocky. I don't know how I've put up with you for so long."

"You love me though."

"You wish."

Roy sighed, his shoulders drooping. "But you do," his sing-song tone of voice was out of character for Roy, but he seemed to be having fun, so Riza wasn't going to stop him. 

"Patronising me won't work in your favour," she said firmly. 

"You're as stubborn as I am, Riza," Roy smiled, getting up from the floor and dusting down his knees. 

She nudged him playfully on the arm. "That level of stubbornness is impossible to reach, even for you."

There was a beat.

"So, are you going to try again?"

"Do you think it's worth it?" Asked Roy, uncertain. 

Riza nodded firmly. "If you want to get better and impress everyone then the key to that is practice."

"Yeah, you're right," he agreed determinedly. "But I think we should put out that fire first."

"Wise idea."

______________

Later that evening, Roy had thought it best not to carry on with his practical and reverted back to reading, which he was currently doing so on the sofa in the living room. It was toasty with the burning log fire and the mug of steaming tea that sat by his side on the table. 

Roy had fallen into the situation where he would just read the same paragraph over and over until it absorbed into his brain before moving on. He had to learn all of this. He had to. There was no other choice if he wanted to stay on as Master Hawkeye's apprentice. As boring at it was, Roy forced himself to push on. 

In the next moment, Riza strolled into the living room nervously. 

"What's up?" Roy questioned, putting his book down. 

"Father's home," she replied, proceeding to lower her voice. "He's going to kill us for destroying his garden."

"You didn't do anything to it. It's my fault, I practised transmutation when I shouldn't have."

Before Riza could reply, Berthold entered the room. His greying coat appeared to be too baggy for his rather thin frame, his windswept hair draped over his shoulders like antique curtains, and he eyed up his daughter and apprentice dubiously. 

"Good evening, Master," Roy greeted, getting to his feet. 

"Good evening," he echoed. "You've been reading, I see."

"Exactly as you instructed, sir."

Berthold paused. "Yes. Wonderful," he then averted his eyes to Riza. "And you've been doing the same?"

Riza nodded confidently, even though she didn't feel it. 

"Good girl," he patted his daughter gently on the shoulder, and made his way past her into the kitchen and out of sight. 

Letting out a sigh of relief, Roy said: "that was close."

"Too close."

"Do you think he'll notice?" He asked quietly. 

"He always notices," Riza responded, looking down at her thumbs as they fiddled with the bottom button of her cardigan. "The question is, how long will it take?"

Not very long, was the answer. Master Hawkeye returned to the living room moments later, a large glass of iced water in his hand, and an even more dubious frown on his face. 

"What happened to the flowers?" Asked Berthold, looking down at the pair. He seemed strangely calm about it, and was more of a casual inquiry rather than an interrogation. Maybe he was feeling generously kind tonight. 

Riza and Roy exchanged an anxious glance before the latter spoke up. 

"I'm deeply sorry, Master. It was my fault."

The older man raised an eyebrow. "How so, boy?"

"I was practising alchemy with the transmutation circles I've read about," Roy defended, not looking his master directly in the eye. "I was impatient and decided to do it earlier, and accidentally set the flowers on fire."

There was a silence while Berthold glared at him, his mind processing what he'd heard.

"What have I told you?" He began. "I said specifically not to participate in practicals because you're simply not ready. Indeed you are impatient, however I must admit that the transmutation circle you drew was fairly impressive. Of course there were a few mistakes her and there and that would be why it didn't work as well as you would have hoped, but that's natural for a beginner. Although I'm not very pleased about you setting my flowers alight. Yet they can always be replaced, and as punishment you will go out and buy some tomorrow from the market. Understand?" 

"Yes, sir," Roy replied, still feeling guilty about his actions and their effect. 

"Hmm. And take Riza with you; it'll be easier with two people."

Riza, thinking she'd got away with being let off, frowned inconspicuously. Then again, she would finally have an opportunity to leave the house and do something productive. 

"It won't happen again," added Roy. 

"It'd better not do, Mustang, or it will be the last thing you do concerning alchemy."

And with one last warning glare, Master Hawkeye left the living room and ascended the stairs, his feet dragging underneath his exhausted body. 

"Why was he so composed about it all?" Roy questioned, sitting back down with a flop. 

"Don't complain," Riza uttered. "He's never like that."

"I'm not. It's just... I perform alchemy that I shouldn't have, I wreck his beautiful garden, and he seems to think it's okay."

"Do not worry about it. We'll fix things tomorrow."

"We'll give him a better garden with better roses," Roy smiled thoughtfully. "He will like that much more."

Riza smiled in return. "Yes, I think he will..."


	7. Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riza's memories of snow turn into another dance

A few weeks later, during the bleak midwinter when the snowfall was deep and shimmering white, Riza had been round to the most occupied rooms in the Hawkeye manor (namely the living room, Bethold's study, and the library) to light the fires to keep them warm. 

Although she loved the snow, Riza hated the cold that it brought. Her father wasn't pleased at the amount of jumpers and cardigans that cluttered her wardrobe, but it was on days like this one that she would need a jumper or two for guaranteed warmth. 

Berthold, on the other hand, practically insisted on freezing to death in his study, so Riza took care in putting extra wood into the room's fire as it would then last longer. He'd be thankful for it later. 

When she had completed her job, she skipped downstairs and into the living room where she picked up a book she's left on the sofa arm. 

The large, dull crimson curtains were open wide, letting in the bright light from outside. And even though the fire was burning, it was still rather cold. 

From the living room window, Riza stared out onto the street, watching a large group of children dressed in wooly hats and coats throw snowballs at one another. She smiled amusingly, although wishing that her early childhood had been just as fun. Riza never got into any snowball fights, and never got to build an impressive snowman either because her mother had died when she was so young and her father never found anytime for such 'foolish behaviour', and neither did she have any friends to play with. Instead, she used to either go into the garden and attempt to build a snowman by herself, or simply stay in with a good book and a nice cup of hot chocolate. She knew which she preferred, but had always longed to have a taste at the other option. 

The children screamed and shouted, the biggest smiles Riza had ever seen appeared on their faces as they chased each other with balls of icy snow in hand. 

Footsteps approached, dragging against the wooden floorboards. She snapped her head the in the direction of the sound, hoping Roy would appear in the doorway. Alas, it was not. 

Master Hawkeye entered the room, a grim expression on his ghostly-white face. His sad, dark eyes gave a fleeting glance around the room before resting upon his daughter.  

"It's that time of year when there's no peace," he grumbled disgustedly. "Children need to learn to behave themselves and act more maturely. Where's a snowball fight going to get them in life?"

"It's just harmless fun, father," Riza argued. "Children are supposed to be like that at their age."

"Or are they? We just say that because we- as a crippling society- think it's acceptable."

Riza didn't say anything in return. She continued watching the hurly-burly, and Berthold continued with his business in getting a drink from the kitchen and slowly recoiling back to his study without another word. 

How typical of him. 

She frowned in dismay of what her father had said. He seemed to hate everything that didn't concern him, and couldn't understand that sometimes things just happened in life that people had to deal with whether they like them or not. And that included screaming children. Why did he care anyway? It's not like he ever ventured outside into the white wonderland. He probably never had in his life. 

No longer interested in looking outside, Riza followed her father's footsteps into the kitchen and- feeling generous- made two cups of tea. She then left and retreated back upstairs too. The hallways were a lot darker, almost eerie. As she passed the library, the door was closed, but light beamed from underneath the gap at the bottom of the door- Roy must be busy studying. 

Riza placed down the two mugs on the floor so she could do and retrieve a blanket from her bedroom; it was cold and no doubt it'd be colder in the library, even with the fire being lit. She slung it over her shoulders like a cape and went back to the library. 

She knocked gently on the door, and got an immediate, weary command to enter. Skilfully, Riza opened the door with the two mugs in hand and closed it by kicking it backwards with her foot. 

"Oh, hello, Riza," greeted Roy, looking up from a textbook. 

"Hey," she answered, walking up to the him, putting one of the mugs down on any possible free space that was available on the desk. "I brought you tea."

Roy smiled gratefully. It was just what he needed. "Thank you."

Riza sat down on the spare next that was sitting skew-whiff next to the desk and there was a pause before she spoke. 

"How is it that you can study for hours without going insane? I can barely study for one without my brain hurting."

"Yeah, it is painful," he said with a laugh. "But if I study hard, I'll be rewarded."

"The secrets of flame alchemy, right?"

With a nod, Roy gazed back down to his book. "That's my goal."

"You'll receive them one day," she uttered, tapping the side of her mug with a fingertip. 

"How can you be so sure?" He questioned, glancing back at her, unable to focus. But he didn't mind. "Master Hawkeye won't even let me do practical alchemy. I mean, you know how that turned out, yet it's like he doesn't trust me because of bad past experiences."

Riza shook her head. "Nonsense. You're the best apprentice he's ever had. Besides, I'll be the one to give you the secrets... With father's permission, of course."

Roy was about to ask what she meant, but thought it best if he didn't. He gave a small nod of understanding, then picking up his mug to take a sip of tea before eventually averting his eyes back to the textbook, glad of Riza's company. 

Riza herself couldn't help but stare at the apprentice as he studied. His black hair was always messier (albeit it looked like he'd been drawn through a hedge backwards) than usual when he read as he had a habit of running a hand through it in frustrated thought. His dark eyes were always focused, alight with his love-hate relationship with reading textbooks. 

"Hey, I know what might pass the time," he said, getting up eagerly and snapping Riza away from her thoughts. She placed her still-too-hot mug on the desk, watching intently as he fiddled around with the dusty gramophone in the corner of the room until he found the perfect song. She, to her own despair, hadn't used her gramophone in a little while, but when she'd been practicing dancing, it was usually in a quiet room while running through the steps in her mind. 

Roy then strolled back over, pulling the blanket off of Riza, and hauling her to her feet. 

She bit the corner of her lip anxiously. "Oh, I couldn't. I haven't practiced in ages and-"

"Care to dance, Miss Hawkeye?" He interrupted, but asking politely to make up for it. He placed a hand on Riza's waist and holding her own hand with his other. 

She took a breath, giving in, smiling faintly. "With pleasure, Mr Mustang."

Riza put her hand on his shoulder, feeling the rhythm of the slow, melodic tune. 

They felt comfortable to be in each other's arms again, especially while dancing. They stepped backwards and forwards, left and right, and twirled around euphorically. Their movements were slow and small; lively would be the complete opposite and wouldn't be appropriate. For now, this was just perfect. 

Roy was impressed by Riza's confidence and ability, fully aware that she must have practiced thoroughly during her free time. And throughout the dance, Roy and Riza never lost eye contact. It was impossible for the latter to take her eyes away from her partner's as they stared down at her passionately. She saw the barrier that was up, stopping his other emotions from escaping into the light. 

Roy, meanwhile, thought that Riza's eyes were the main feature of her beauty. The way that they led to her soul was almost mesmerising, and he was afraid to look away just incase as he felt as though he would never see her again. 

As the music began to slow to an end, so did Roy and Riza. The snow still fell heavily, adding to the beauty of the afternoon. 

"You're cold," he pointed out, gently grabbing hold of Riza's delicate hands and holding them out in front of him. 

"As are you," she replied. "But you insisted on pulling my blanket off."

"But the dance was worth it."

Riza nodded. 

"You're better than you were last time."

"Thank you," she smiled. "And don't even think about trying to point out some flaw like you did before."

"I wasn't going to!" He cried defensively, laughing in the process. 

"Good," she scowled playfully. 

After a long pause, Riza, clean forgetting about her mug of tea (and not really caring), and acting upon impulse, let go of Roy's hands and placed a long-awaited kiss on his lips. Momentarily, he was stunned, but a wave of affection soon swept over him. He kissed back for a short while, appreciating this moment, and then enveloping his arms around her, pulling them into a comforting embrace.

How it has taken him this long to kiss her, Roy will never know. However, he tended to be rather unlucky, so karma would come and slap him in the face for doing such a crude thing. He loved Riza and never really got to show that affection, but maybe it wasn't meant to be and that's why. He hated to think this way, yet there's was always some form of consequence, right? 

"I see you've gone past the level of flirting," Riza pointed out, her cheeks stained bright pink. "What's this now? Seducing me, or is it something else?"

Roy didn't answer immediately. It took him a while to do so, and when he did, he hadn't really been paying much attention. 

"I'm sorry, what were you saying? I keep getting lost in your eyes."

Riza smiled modestly. "So, what do I owe the pleasure of being on the receiving end of the infamous Mustang charm to?"

"Nothing," he shrugged. "I was simply pointing out the beauty in your eyes; they look different than normal."

"Hmm... And there's something different in your eyes, Roy. Something that's never been there before. Regret? Longing? Penitence?"

"...All damn three." 

"Why? What's happened?" She asked, concerned.

The tables were rapidly turning, and Roy knew he had been right about the whole karma concept- and this was it. He didn't want to tell Riza about what he had done, he really didn't because it would send everything into oblivion.  

"Nothing. It's what's about to happen," he began, noticing Riza's expectant glance, so he (almost reluctantly) carried on. "I've enlisted in the military, and I leave next week."

She stared at him blankly, her lips parted as if she was about to say something. Her perfect posture gave way to slouching shoulders or unanticipated dismay. She felt quite betrayed at the fact that he hadn't bothered to tell her before now, and felt that it was necessary to tell her at the point it was too late for anything. 

"I know it's not what you would want, nor your father," explained Roy, desperately trying to amend the wonderful atmosphere in the room prior to this conversation. "But 'alchemy is for the people' and I plan to help as many people as I can."

Riza's tawny eyes were distant. "Yes... Father won't be pleased at all."

She seemed to have purposely ignored the rest of what he had said, but then took his hands in her own once more. Her touch was warm, yet there was some sort of icy anger harbouring inside them as her grip was unusually tight. "As long as you're happy in the path you've chosen, then that's all that matters. Just... Promise me one thing, okay?"

He swallowed. "What's that?"

"Don't go and abuse the alchemy father taught you- use it for the good of the 'people' and for the country."

Once Riza had finished speaking, she immediately let go of Roy's hands and exited the library, taking her cold cup of tea with her. 

Yes. Everything was cold now. 

He sighed exasperatedly, mentally kicking himself. Great way to ruin the moment, Roy...


	8. Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback to Roy and Riza's childhood days

East City, 1889  
______________

"Mummy, can we play outside now?"

"Not right now, dear."

The same question had been asked several times in the past hour, and the same answer was given every time.

Riza sat at the kitchen table, disappointed, pouting at her mother, who was busy cooking a delicious-smelling soup. 

The four-year old loved the snow. She loved watching the crystalline flakes fall from the grey sky. But neither her mother or her father loved it like she did. In fact, Riza had come to the conclusion that they didn't like it at all.

"Can we go outside now?" She questioned again. 

"No, Riza," her mother replied with a little more force, looking up from stirring the soup. Her chocolate-brown eyes (similar to Riza's own) scowling at her daughter, but the young girl didn't give much notice. "Go and ask your father."

"I already have, but he didn't seem interested. He never is."

Riza's downhearted tone wasn't pleasing to hear, and her mother sighed sympathetically. 

"He's just busy, dear," she said gently. 

"But he's always busy," Riza whined, still pouting. 

"Why don't you go out in the garden on your own for a bit?" Her mother suggested. "Enjoy the snow while it's here, huh?"

"Okay..." She mumbled, slipping off the chair. Her mother went to grab her coat, gloves, and boots, then helping her to put them on before she opened the back door, shivering at the sudden blast of freezing air. 

Cosy and satisfied, Riza entered the garden. The cold breeze tickled her nose and quickly turning it a dark shade of pink. Her boots were only just long enough to cover her legs from the deep snow, which she insisted on bounding through like an excited puppy. 

Riza knelt down, scooping up some of the snow in gloved hands. She stared at it as it sparkled in the grey light of the morning, admiring its natural beauty before throwing it into the air and letting it rain down on her. She giggled, and fell backwards comfortably into the cushioning snow. 

Riza lay there in the crisp white, her arms and legs outstretched as if to be ready to make a snow angel. But she didn't. Her enthusiasm had been used up and now she was just tired and sad. The snow wasn't any fun by herself. 

She sighed, staring up at the pale-grey sky with a longing for someone to share in her fun. Unfortunately, she knew that her mother wasn't prepared to join her, and her father wouldn't even let the thought cross his mind. Riza didn't have any close friends to invite over either, not that it mattered as they'd be out with their parents or their own friends. 

She felt a tear roll down her cheek as her bottom lip trembled. Why was it that whenever she wanted to play, nobody wanted to join in with her? And why was she so lonely?

Quickly, Riza wiped the tear away with her gloved fingers and got to her feet, dusting herself down to get rid of the snow that clung to her clothes. She trundled miserably back inside, taking off her boots and coat at the back door before leaving them there and walking into the living room. 

"Riza, dear? What's the matter?" Her mother asked from the kitchen. When she didn't reply, she put down the wooden spoon and went to sit beside her daughter, who had now sunk into the armchair by the fire. 

"What's the matter?" She questioned again, her tone of voice soft as a feather. 

"Nobody wants to play with me," the young girl answered. "And it's no fun on my own."

"Why don't you go and read a book for the time being?" Her mother proposed. "And when I've finished this soup, I'll come and read it with you."

Riza thought that was a better idea than being awkwardly by herself outside. With a happy nod, she jumped down from the sofa and made her way up the stairs. She had to be cautious not to disturb her father while she passed the door to his study, and always tiptoed along the hallway just in case. While her footsteps were quiet all the time, she had to make sure because she hated it when he shouted at her or her mother.

The trouble with alchemists was that they always seemed to be immersed in their work, striving to find perfection out of random experiments and equations. However, despite her young age too, Riza viewed them as admirable, especially her father, who was called one of the best alchemists in the country. She was happy to know this and it warmed her heart. 

It was while before Riza's mother came upstairs to read to her, yet she didn't mind because she was there now. She read to her daughter until she was sleepy and yawning continuously. Riza eventually fell asleep, and her mother covered her over with a blanket as she snored lightly. 

One day, her mother decided, she won't look as fragile. She'll be strong, a fighter. And she won't let me down...

• • • • •

Central City, 1889  
______________

The bustle of the city streets never ceased to amaze Roy, even if they were crammed with snow. People still made their treks to work, and they still carried on running the market stalls like the snow wasn't even there. 

He had been to the grocery shop with his older 'sister', Vanessa, and was carrying one of the bags for her. He almost toppled over at one point as the bag was almost as big as he was. 

Madam Christmas, Roy's adoptive mother (although he preferred to call her his aunt), was pleased to see them return, ushering them inside before they 'contracted frostbite'. Vanessa went through to the bar's kitchen, while Madam Christmas took the bag off Roy, giving him a grateful smile in process before following Vanessa.

It took Roy a minute or so to realise that there was somebody sat at the bar, half-empty glass in hand, staring down at him with friendly eyes that were covered by glasses. He was dressed in the military uniform, looking proud and powerful in blue and gold. 

"Hello, young man," he greeted. 

"H-Hello," Roy replied timidly, uncertain and fiddling with the buttons on his coat, trying not to make too much eye contact. 

"It's nice to see you helping your Aunt Chris out. That woman always seems to be up to something."

Roy nodded. "I like helping Auntie."

The man laughed, his smile bright. "Good lad."

"I hope you're not trying to brainwash him, Colonel Grumman."

Madam Christmas had come back, her arms folded, and a suspicious smirk on her face. 

"Not at all!" The older man said. "I was simply commenting on how wonderful he's been in helping you, Madam."

She gazed down at Roy, who looked back up with a smile. She ruffled his black hair, making messier than it already was. Her pride shone in her own eyes and knew that Roy was always going to be so gracious and caring. It was her instinct. "Yes, he's brilliant. So keen, and a quick learner too."

"Perhaps he'd be a military man when he's older? He's got the posture and attention span."

"Not at all," Madam Christmas said. "It's far too dangerous."

"Hmmm... A quicker learner would be suited to the field of medicine, or the art of alchemy, wouldn't you agree?"  

Roy's eyes lit up at the mention of alchemy. He had heard stories about a group of military recruits called State Alchemists and how courageous they were in defending the country with their unique abilities. 

"Alchemy?" Repeated Madam Christmas, raising an eyebrow. "That's not a wise idea because it's just as dangerous. Alchemists are mad."

"But alchemists are brave, Auntie," Roy chimed in. 

"Brave? Where have you heard that nonsense? I hope Vanessa and Charlotte haven't been telling you things."

He shook his head. "At school, and in the streets on the way back from the shops. Someone said they're brave because they fight for the people of Amestris, and they aren't afraid of danger!"

Madam Christmas looked up at Colonel Grumman, who guffawed in amusement. "Who knew five year olds could be so smart!"

"He's too smart for his own good," she said, rolling her eyes. 

"Well, my son-in-law is an alchemist," he continued. "And he's not as brave as some State Alchemists, although he's made up for what he lacks in research and intelligence."

"What kind of alchemy does he do?" Asked Roy curiously, stepping away from his aunt and towards Grumman. 

"Flame alchemy," the older man responded, twirling what was left of his gun around in the glass, which he held in between two fingers. "It's quite the innovative stuff."

"Maybe he could get rid off all this snow," suggested Roy. 

"Oh, dear boy, that's not its purpose."

"Come on, Colonel," Madam Christmas intervened. "Don't be drilling ideas into his head; fire is fatal, I don't want him messing around with it. Roy's far too young for this anyway."

"Perhaps when he's older? My son-in-law wouldn't bother too much with an apprentice. He's had a couple before, but not the prodigies he was expecting."

"Perhaps indeed-"

"Please Auntie!" Begged Roy as he gazed up once again, his dark eyes crying out for her approval. 

She sighed. "Maybe when you are older, then I'll consider."

The young boy beamed, turning his gaze to Vanessa as she walked back into the bar, making sure her hair was in place. "Hear that, Nessa! I'm going to be an alchemist!"

Vanessa smiled softly. "An alchemist, eh? Well, we'll all have to watch out for you then."

Roy giggled and Madam Christmas turned to Colonel Grumman. 

"You've promised him now. You can't go back."

He laughed again. "I always keep my promises though, don't I?"

"Indeed you do."

"I'll bring my son-in-law's details next time I come in and you keep them until you're ready, Madam."

"Thank you, Colonel."

"No worries, my dear," crowed Grumman, taking money from his pocket and handing it to Madam Christmas. "Thanks for the drink," she turned to Roy as he got off his stool. "You be good now, young man, and make sure of it. Alchemy requires sensibility and composure, so you practise those and you'll soon be on your way."

Roy wasn't exactly sure what the two words meant, but he nodded and grinned. "I'll be good, and I'll be the best alchemist the whole, wide world has ever seen!"


	9. Honour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With things being icy lately, but will Riza and Roy make up before the latter leaves for a new life?

Late into the night, Roy was still mentally kicking himself, and kicking himself hard. Ultimately, he knew that he would've had to tell Riza at some point, but he didn't know what to say to her question when she asked it other than the straight answer. 

Why did it have to be then? Why at that moment? He growled to himself frustratedly. 

You can't be more stupid than Roy Mustang, he added to himself, and no doubt Riza would agree to that. 

While he thought, the front door could be heard closing (and rather loudly too). It must have been Master Hawkeye, although Roy hadn't heard him leave the house in the first place, so who knew how long he'd been gone for. Minutes later, the sound of footsteps came from outside his room, dragging along the wooden floorboard and followed by a stifled cough. Master Hawkeye wasn't fairing well with the cold weather. 

The young apprentice eventually managed to sleep before being woken by the winter sun, which hung horribly low in the sky. The curtains of his bedroom didn't even do what they were supposed to, and so made him quite annoyed. 

He got up and dressed (albeit, rather sloppily) and then headed downstairs for a light breakfast before he continued with another day of studying. Roy needed all the study time he could get before heading off to Central. But the thoughts of last night's contemplations still lingered in his mind, even more so when he found Riza sitting at the table with a book and a cup of tea. 

Without saying a word, Roy grabbed a bowl from the cupboard and poured himself some cereal, then grabbing the milk and orange juice from the fridge. He could feel Riza's gaze follow him as he did so, but chose to ignore it. She also probably just needed the space to think. 

"So, what is it exactly that you'll be doing in the military?" Her inquisitive tone surprised Roy as he momentarily paused from making his breakfast.  

"You mean after I complete my training?" 

She nodded. 

"Become a State Alchemist," he replied. 

Riza scoffed. "You know that father will kill you for that, and by 'kill' I mean literally."

Shrugging, Roy said: "If he kills me, so be it. But his time in teaching me his alchemy will be wasted. Even you know that." 

"Hmm. So, what else?"

Roy didn't like Riza's stubborn, angry side and always did his best to avoid such conflict. However, he had no choice but to face the consequences because of his stupid loudmouth. 

"I plan on rising through the ranks of the military," he began, turning his back to her, putting the milk back into the fridge and taking a spoon from a nearby drawer. "And then eventually get to Führer- that's my ultimate goal. Then I can make Amestris a better, stronger, safer place to be. I can't just sit and waste my life thinking that somebody will do it for me, or for the rest of the country."

Roy paused, taking a swig of his orange juice, Riza watching him intently as a bird of prey would with its potential lunch. She thought about how reckless he was for dreaming extremely big, yet admired him for doing so anyway. Despite her irritation and anger, she still loved that about him. 

"I decided to take matters into my own hands," Roy continued. "And when I became Master Hawkeye's apprentice, I was astounded. I was honoured. Ever since then, I've worked hard to make sure I know everything there is on his alchemic speciality, so it will enhance my own powers."

"You're mad for wanting to join the military," Riza told him after a slight pause. "Mad. I don't understand you at all."

"Well, you haven't tried hard enough, then."

"Or perhaps it's because you're so stubborn and difficult, Mr Mustang," she snapped. Roy knew that whenever she used his surname it was either out of affection or annoyance, and this time it was certainly the latter. 

"I'm stubborn and difficult?" He questioned darkly. He was about to continue, but thought that he'd be stuck in the same agonising, argumentative cycle if he carried on any longer. 

"You know what, forget it. If you don't like my choices then don't support me with them. I'll do that on my own."

And without giving Riza a second glance, Roy took his bowl and glass with him as he exited the kitchen and made his way back up the stairs, exhausted and irritated. 

______________

For the remainder of the day, Riza didn't speak to Roy, nor did he speak to her. They decided that after the conversation they had at breakfast, it would be better to stay silent before their emotions got in the way. 

They both went to bed feeling the tension, and knew that this all had to be resolved in time for the beginning of the next week, and the beginning of next week came far more quickly than either Roy or Riza had anticipated. 

The night before Roy's departure, Riza found herself making carefully considered decisions. She'd spent her study time staring at the wall in thought, and not once did she pick up a pen. 

She'd been unnecessarily arrogant towards Roy the other day, and she knew she had to apologise. But it was whether he'd forgive her for being so foolish that was preying on her mind. 

She soon found herself in the kitchen once again making two cups of tea. While it was only a token gesture, Riza hoped that it would help her make amends. However, she was still annoyed at the fact that Roy hadn't discussed his enlistment with her. She wouldn't have been so upset if he'd mention it earlier, but she supposed that he was simply just busy with his own studying that he forgot to mention it until their exchange of words flicked a switch in his brain, reminding him to tell her. 

Once she was upstairs (and with the two mugs of tea in hand), Riza ventured to Roy's room, where she found him busy packing up his things in preparation to leave for Central tomorrow morning. 

"I brought you some tea," Riza announced, stepping into the room, and placing the mug down on the drawer at the bottom of the bed. 

"Thanks," mumbled Roy after a short pause, not daring to look at her as he slipped on one of his waistcoats. 

His suitcase was on top of his (for once tidy) bed, and it was beginning to fill with clothes are other trinkets. He still seemed to be in a bad mood and no doubt had been thinking over the last few days, which probably hadn't done it much good. In fact, Roy had been awake most nights for hours, compromising and thinking about what the future had in store for him. 

"Does father know you're going?" Riza asked, breaking the silence. 

Roy shook his head, still not looking up at her. "No. But if you wouldn't mind, tell him I'm returning to my family in Central for a while. That will suffice for now."

She nodded in understanding. "But you'll have to tell him the truth one day."

"I anticipate the time when that day will come," he said bluntly. "But until then, I'll stick to lying."

"If you're sure."

Roy grunted as if to confirm an 'I'm sure'. Riza watched as he took his shirts from the wardrobe and began folding them up, ready to put into his suitcase. 

"Can I help you with anything else?" He inquired, pausing and glancing at momentarily, his eyes and expression unreadable. 

She muttered a 'no' before exiting the room, sipping her tea in the process. It felt soothingly warm against her fingers and palms, especially since she had been so cold recently. 

Within the next couple of hours, Riza had ploughed through four cups of tea and one and half books. She was enjoying the tranquil afternoon despite the occasional comment from Berthold, who would appear from his study to grab drinks and then retreat back. It surprised her that he had been away from his work so frequently, but what stunned her more was the fact that Roy presented himself not long after her father's most recent trip to the kitchen, his empty mug in hand, which he tapped gently and rhythmically with his fingers.

"Riza?"

She turned to him, curious as to why he was talking to her normally (compared with earlier on, that was). "Yes?"

"...Your father once told me that you possess his theories and research on flame alchemy," Roy began, looking down at his feet. "Could I perhaps see them before I leave?"

Riza stared at him, her brown eyes letting through her built up emotions. She then smiled lopsidedly, saying: "maybe some other time."

"I'm not ready yet, am I? Or is it top secret? I mean, of course it is, but it must be well-hidden, right?"

"Of course. Father wouldn't have it any other way."

"And in some massive, crinkling notebook with diagrams stuck in the corners of the pages?"

Riza's soft smile stayed stuck, admiring his effort. "No, not quite." 

Puzzled, Roy frowned. "Then how else can he have-"

"Roy, please. Don't fuss. I promise to show you some other time."

He sighed heavily, then lifting up his hand to run it through his hair, combing it back, but failing to keep it kempt. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she said, putting down her book and getting up to stand before him, looking into his dark eyes. "I know you're eager, but you'll just have to wait a little longer, okay?"

"As long as it takes," he replied firmly, yet disappointment still burned inside him. "But don't you trust me? I know what happened last week turned things in the wrong direction, but-"

"Of course I trust you," Riza cut him off, her tone firm, yet patient. She also grabbed hold of his hand reassuringly, which took him aback. "Don't you ever doubt that, Roy Mustang."

Roy gazed into Riza's eyes. They were apologetic, still brimming with all the emotions of the day just gone. They both wondered about how long the pain of grief would last and what would proceed that. 

"I'm sorry," he said again, looking in any direction away from Riza. "I've never lost faith in you, and I don't plan to start any time now."

She tightened her grip on his hand, and said: "don't be sorry for who you are or what you've done. We all make mistakes, we all rush into things too quickly, we all say stuff we shouldn't have. We're both under the weather today, so I think it'd be best if we just got an early night."

"You're right," agreed Roy, placing his other hands over hers, feeling the softness of Riza's cool skin underneath his fingertips. "Sleep sounds like a plan."

And when Roy thought of sleep, he pictures himself neatly wrapped up in several blankets, laying on his bed and listening to the pitter-patter of the rain in the glass windows. He certainly never imagined being bundled up with Riza on the sofa in those same blankets, while listening to the faint chitchat on the radio. She was huddled like a dozing kitten, her head against Roy's shoulder, and her hair brushing the base of his neck. 

Riza was gruntled that this somehow happened. She needed Roy now that she no longer had her father. He would be her constant company, her light in the darkness. They'd already been through a lot together, and she was positive that bigger things were to come.

Apologies for the spark of their grudges  last week weren't necessary. Roy and Riza knew better than to speak with words, they could understand each other through their silence and their hearts.

______________

Despite what Roy had told Riza earlier, he went and told Master Hawkeye he was leaving and was sorry that it was such short notice when he's mustered up the courage to do so. He left Riza sleeping on the sofa, however she stirred when there was muffled yelling from upstairs.

Roy was stood on the opposite side of Berthold's desk like a schoolboy would do when he'd been summoned to the headmaster's office. The older man's fist clenched at the younger' confession and sighed with great exasperation.

"The military," Master Hawkeye spoke as if the word tasted awful. "The military!? Are you mad, boy?"

Roy said nothing in return because he didn't know what to say.

He sighed again. "What drove you to such an stupidly intrepid decision?" 

"The good of the country, sir," the young man uttered. "I can use alchemy to help people and-"

"I teach you alchemy and you turn against my will to become a dancing dog for those bastards? How foolish."

Roy blinked, his mouth hung open, yet no words came out. 

"You're throwing your life away," said Master Hawkeye, more calmly this time, yet anger still burned in his eyes. 

"With all due respect, sir, I think that being a soldier is a fantastic thing to do with my life. I can't sit around wasting it, and expect somebody else to make difference on my behalf."

"Wise words from an imprudent mouth..."

Roy was hurt by his master's words. "Being a soldier isn't just about recklessly putting my life on the line. It's about helping everyone and defending the honour of oneself and the country."

"Soldiers are reckless, and extremely stupid. I detest every inch of their being. They're nothing but slaves to a corrupt dictatorship. You speak of honour, Roy, as if you know what that it, as if you posses great amounts of it. Honour is self-respect and knowing when to quit while you're ahead."

"I'm going, and that's that," Roy spoke firmly. "I'll know exactly what honour is when I get there and I'll know exactly how to uphold it. The military needs and wants somebody like me in their arsenal."

"You have no place there. You're above them!" Snapped Berthold, slamming his fist against the desk out of rage. "Now get out."

Roy turned on his heels, mumbling the word 'gladly' as he left the study. While he still had respect for Master Hawkeye, he couldn't help but want to punch him in the face just to make him see reason. However, the older man's anger only made Roy more determined and spurred him on to achieve what he wanted. 

I'll show him. I'll prove him wrong...


	10. Farewell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy's departure leaves Riza in a bittersweet state

The next day brought drizzle and grey clouds. The murky sky was the perfect representation of pathetic fallacy, and Riza couldn't stop thinking about it like she was writing an English essay. 

She forced herself to stop by leaving the house extra early in the morning to go to the grocery shop, but had to remember to buy less as there wouldn't be enough people left in the Manor to eat everything after Roy left. And her father wouldn't be eating much either. 

Everything was quiet when she returned, and as she was on her way back to her room, Riza heard her father coughing in his study. There wasn't much she could do except offer him painkillers, cough medicine, and plenty to drink. Berthold was always reluctantly stubborn to accept, but did so anyway out of respect and gratitude to his daughter's efforts. 

Riza sat on her bed for a while, reading a book to immerse herself in anywhere but reality. After a few hours, she heard the dull thump of Roy's suitcase being dragged down the stairs, which reminded of her of when she had first taken that case up to his room on the day they first met. He'd insisted that she didn't do so, but Riza was only doing what any good host would do. 

She closed her book, and hopped off her bed before making her way down the corridor with a heavy heart. Her attention was drawn (and quite frequently) to the photographs that lined the hallway wall like soldiers. A once happy family that was torn by death and turmoil always seemed to pop out at Riza, and even though she tried to ignore it, the memories and thoughts still loitered. 

After the passing of her mother, Riza was unequivocal about the fact that she'd never be a part of any sort of family again. She didn't enjoy living with her estranged father and his enigmatic methods of going about daily things, so found it surprising (and oddly refreshing) that a new face turned up on her doorstep three years ago only to somehow weave his way into becoming family, only to break away at the time family was most significant. 

Once again, there'd be nothing left of said dysfunctional ménage at the end of today. The house would be silent, isolated, and capacious; Riza thought it'd never return to this, but luck was never really on her side anyway. 

______________

Once Roy had got his suitcase down the stairs, he was relieved to finally breath again. He was sure that his cheeks had burned up from the strain, yet couldn't understand what the hell he had packed into it. Nevertheless, it'd be a lot easier to carry to the station. 

He'd miss the early breakfasts, spending the majority of the day studying, staying up late to cram in every bit of alchemy, Riza's smiling eyes and lovely singing voice, and he'd even stretch to admit that he would miss Master Hawkeye's nagging. 

As Roy put on his coat, he heard soft footsteps descend the stairs. He gazed up to see Riza stood on the bottom step, a large dark-coloured cardigan wrapped around her. Her eyes looked at him guiltily as she sighed, leaning over and pulling him to closer to her with the lapels of his jacket before straightening the collar of his shirt and his tie. 

"You're a total, complete, utter idiot," she told him, making sure that his coat looked presentable too. He was glad to feel her touch again. 

"I know," said Roy, quietly and firmly. 

"Good. So don't be an idiot when you get to the academy because I won't forgive you otherwise."

Roy couldn't help but feel alleviated when she said what she did as he was expecting a scolding glance or a smack on the cheek. 

"I won't be," he promised. "I'll make you proud this time, and Master Hawkeye too. I actually will."

"You don't have to make us proud, you already have," she said, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Roy was also glad to see Riza smiling again; he missed it terribly and was going to long it even more when he left for Central. 

"How? I've done the one thing you both despise-"

"But it's a brave thing," cut in Riza. "And I admire that. Not everyone can sign up to the military so easily and be confident about it... Again, I'm sorry for how I reacted the other day; it came as a surprise."

"Don't worry about it," Roy answered nonchalantly. "You were right to react that way."

"No," she snapped. "It wasn't okay, and I'm truly sorry. It was out of order. It was false support, but I'm here now, truly supporting you like I should be doing. It's your life, God damnit, you lead it how you want."

Consolingly, Roy placed a hand on her shoulder and Riza's own hand covered it, lending warmth in such a cold day. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

There was a silence between them, the peacefulness of the house feeling quite claustrophobic. 

"I really must be going now," he uttered, picking up his suitcase. 

"Then I'm coming with you to the station," Riza said, eagerly jumping down from the stairs and grabbing her coat from the nearby hooks. 

"You don't have to," insisted Roy. "It's cold out there."

"So? It's never cold when you have company."

He smiled at her determination. "Okay, fine. Let's go."

All the way to the station, Riza hummed melodies, occasionally singing them quietly enough for Roy to hear. He knew that she was doing it because it would be the last (and only) time she'd get to do so to somebody who cared and who appreciated her beautiful voice. 

"It's nice to hear you sing again," he told her honestly. 

"Hmm, it's nice to be able to do it without father cursing me," said Riza. 

"You know, you don't have to keep on worrying about what he thinks. Be your own person; don't let him decide on your behalf."

"You're right," she answered, glancing away briefly. "But it's hard, and I do try."

"I know you do."

There was a long pause as the two entered the station. It wasn't particularly busy, but a handful of people dashed around and chattered animatedly. 

"You'd said you would take me to Central one day," Riza eventually spoke in a thoughtful manner. She gazed at a nearby train, watching steam plume into the air as it came to a halt. 

"Apologies. I'd like today to have been that day," Roy replied, smiling faintly. "However, I'll let you hold me accountable to this: I promise that one day in the future we'll go together."

"You'll have to sign a contract for that," she chuckled, and Roy mimicked her, but his smile faded as he exclaimed: "Oh, yeah! Well, you see, I don't have much to give you as a parting gift," he finished, fishing into his coat pocket. 

"Don't be silly," Riza shook her head. 

He handed her a piece of folded paper. "Don't open it until I'm gone. It's nothing special, but it's... Something."

She flung her arms around his neck, her grip tight to the paper as if it was her lifeline. "Thank you, Roy. Whatever it is, I appreciate it."

Roy hugged her waist with his freehand, savouring the moment. But not for long as the tannoy announced that the train for Central would be departing in a few minutes. 

Riza pulled away, glancing down at her feet. "I guess this is farewell."

"Farewell," he echoed. "But not for long."

"I hope not."

"It won't be," Roy assured, placing a hand on her shoulder. Riza looked up, trying not to let her emotions rule her. Without a second thought, however, she pressed a kiss against his cheek, then proceeding to do nothing but smile softly, radiantly. Roy wasn't surprised or startled, in fact, he was quite content to be leaving on a high, and with a gentle kiss as a memento. 

"Promise?" She prompted. 

"Promise," he echoed, giving Riza one last glance before turning on his heels and heading towards his train. She clutched the piece of paper tightly between her fingers, observing Roy's stagger as he carried the weight of his suitcase. 

It was like something from one of Riza's romance novels, in which the two protagonist lovers solemnly parted ways only to one day hope that they'd cross paths again. That she was sure of in the case of herself and her long-gone companion, even if it was most likely going to happen in a fictional tale rather than in reality. But, after all, Roy had sworn that he'd be back again, and he had better be good at keeping his word. 

Soon, Riza prayed inwardly. 

Minutes later, the train blew its whistle- loud and unmissable- before steadily beginning to set off. Roy waved from the window, a grin plastered on his face and Riza waved in return. Within seconds, the train left the station, bound for the country's capital, and disappeared over the horizon. 

Gazing down, Riza opened the folded piece of paper, its texture smooth under her fingertips. In handwriting that tried its best to be neat and legible, it read:

Even if you blind me, you'll still be beautiful. 

Take care of yourself x

Riza beamed. Even at the worst of times, Roy tended to be a hopeless romantic. She couldn't help but roll her eyes: even though his effort was valiant, he sometimes had no idea what he was doing and usually made a fool of himself. Most of the time he recognised this, but it was mirthful when he didn't. Memories of these occasions came flooding back, and everything hurt. Her mind, her joints, her heart. And it hurt like hell. 

When Riza returned home, the weather was still sullen. She shook off the excess rain that clung to her coat before clumsily hanging it up and not caring that it fell onto the sodden, wooden floor. Then turning to leave, Riza drearily made her way upstairs to the library. 

It was no exception to the lack of comfort and noise in the house. Everywhere was eerily silent and empty. A stack of books were piled on the desk, and some sheets of paper with notes written all over them sat there too. Roy had left them on purpose; maybe because he thought that one day he would come back to continue studying. 

Even if you blind me, you'll still be beautiful. 

The words of the note echoed in Riza's mind. She didn't want to think about it (as it was making her feeling even worse than she was now), and she wouldn't dare take it out of her cardigan pocket- the now slightly crumpled bit of paper it was written on, the ink that was used, and the almost incoherent writing all reminded of Roy. 

He'd left on a train to Central City, and unknowingly took a piece of her heart with him. 

Riza collapsed onto the floor, bunching up the rug in her fists frustratedly. He had barely been gone an hour, and she already missed him like she hadn't seen him for years. Roy, of course, felt the same, except he was just better at not outwardly conveying his emotions.

The rage she felt at him for not telling her about his military enlistment no longer mattered. It never really did. Now she just felt hollow, empty, alone...


	11. Courageous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The return of a familiar face brings Riza five unexpected words that she thought she'd never hear

One Year Later...  
______________

"The military!? Are you mad, boy?"

"I detest every inch of their being. They're nothing but slaves to a corrupt dictatorship."

"You have no place there. You're above them!"

"I teach you alchemy and you turn against my will to become a dancing dog for those bastards? How foolish."

Roy's eyes flickered open as he listened to the clattering of the train's wheels hitting the tracks beneath it. It was mid afternoon, yet he was already exhausted, and (as he drifted in and out of sleep) Roy couldn't help but think of the numerous occasions on which Master Hawkeye had scolded him for his military-induced aspirations. 

The older man utterly despised his apprentice's choice in wanting to enlist. He deemed Roy as naïve and probably didn't trust him with his secrets on flame alchemy. 

Roy (for all he knew) could be the only flame alchemist in Amestris next to his master, and of course Berthold would have to pass on its hidden treasures to keep it alive, whether he wanted to or not. 

He was desperate to become stronger and the only way to do so was through the secrets of the alchemy he'd been studying for years. He'd wanted to see it before he left for the academy, but Riza had insisted 'maybe some other time.'

Ah, yes. Riza. 

Roy hadn't seen her in just under a year. And what a long year it had been. Although they had written to one another several times, but Roy was always busy with training that sometimes her never got to reply, which he felt very culpable for. 

It was only now that he was returning back to the Hawkeye Manor to visit Riza after such a long time apart; it was the only chance he had. He'd also bought a bunch of sunflowers for her, knowing that they were her favourite, and they currently lay on his lap, waiting patiently just like Roy was. 

When the train arrived at East City station, he thought it odd that it was so silent. The platforms weren't even remotely busy, and not many got off the train either. He thought nothing of it as it would just make him worry unnecessarily. 

Roy decided to walk to the Hawkeye Manor as it wasn't too far from the station, and as he made his way through the city's streets, he realised how much he'd missed it. He hadn't returned with much: just a coat, a small suitcase of clothes, and himself as he'd be later returning to Central later in the week to finalise things involving his new job. 

A few people stared at him, and he knew full well that they were probably intrigued at the sight of such a young military officer, particularly one that was carrying a suitcase in one hand and a large bunch of brightly coloured sunflowers in the other. Roy began to feel awkward and wished the ones that stared would disappear. 

However, he soon reached the Hawkeye household and placed his suitcase by his feet before reaching up and knocking loudly on the door. It only took a few seconds for the door to swing open, revealing Riza to be stood in the same cardigan she wore when she accompanied Roy to the train station last year. Her downcast expression rapidly turned into a smile, one of joy and relief. 

"Roy!" She cried, throwing her arms around him. "I didn't recognise you then."

"Nice to see you too," he laughed, holding her with his free hand. 

She then pulled away, weighing him up and down. "You look awfully smart in that uniform."

"Oh, thank you," he grinned proudly. "These are for you by the way."

He handed her the sunflowers, and Riza smiled softly as if to be reminiscing. "They're beautiful, but you didn't have to."

"I thought they'd might cheer you up."

"They most certainly have... Shall I take your case upstairs?"

"Not at all," answered Roy insistingly, picking it back up . "I'm not letting you do that again."

She chuckled. "Fair enough. You'd better come in then, I'll make some tea."

Roy followed Riza inside, and as she left to go to the kitchen, he remained in the hallway. He took off his coat, hung it up and tucked his case underneath the stack of jackets that seemed to have never really been worn in the time he was away. He wasn't that surprised considering that Berthold was practically a hermit and that Riza only took the time to go outside when she went to the shops. By now, she would have finished high school, and who knew what she had decided to do now. 

Roy turned to go to the kitchen, fiddling with sleeves of his jacket. Somehow he felt nervous being back in his old home. Berthold probably wouldn't be too pleased to see him, but neither would he mind seeing his former apprentice again. The house seemed all too big again and he still felt sympathy towards Riza for having to share it with somebody who never even left one room. 

"Where's Master Hawkeye?" Questioned Roy as he entered the kitchen. 

"He's out on business," Riza answered, stirring the tea and then adding milk. "Only for the day, and it's local; I'm glad because he's still coughing and it won't go away. He refuses to see a doctor."

"Stubborn man," he uttered jokingly. 

"Yeah, well, we all know where you get it from now."

Laughing, Roy nodded in agreement. "I suppose so."

Riza chuckled, bringing over the tea she'd made and handed a mug to Roy.

"So, tell me about your year, then," she prompted, curiosity gleaming in her eyes.

Unable to stop himself from smiling proudly, Roy began: "Well, I completed the military training and passed my State Alchemist's assessment in the meantime, too."

Riza's eyes lit up even more. "That's wonderful! Well done!"

His cheeks turned pink. "Thank you."

"What's your fancy title, then?"

"The Flame Alchemist."

"Ooh, I like that," Riza beamed. "It's fitting. It suits you too."

"I'm glad you think so. And what about you? How's your year been?"

She shrugged. "Same old, same old. It's been incredibly boring, yet stressful because father is so ill and so damn mulish."

"Don't worry," Roy reassured her. "He'll see sense sooner or later."

"I hope you're right. If he doesn't stop, I'll have to- What's that?"

Puzzled, he furrowed his eyebrows. "What's what?"

Riza pointed to the cuff of Roy's coat where it the blue fabric was stained red. "That."

He lifted up his arm to see, and simply went: "Oh... That."

"You didn't hurt yourself, did you?" She asked. 

"No, no," Roy replied, shaking his head. "It's not my blood anyway."

Riza rolled her eyes. He seemed so calm about having a large patch of blood, let alone someone else's, on his uniform. "Dirty sod... Take it off, then. I'll scrub the blood off for you."

"Oh, thank you, Riza," he said, mildly surprised as he slipped off his coat and handed it to her as she got up. It smelt brand new, like it had never been worn, and vaguely of charcoal. She smiled inwardly- he must have been trying to practice flame alchemy with limited material. 

"You should take better care of your clothes, you know," she then told him. "You've always been the same."

Roy smiled, feeling cold now in just his shirt and trousers, but took his mind off it by watching Riza. Her tawny-coloured eyes were still the same as they used to be: wise and gentle. Her golden hair had grown longer too, making her look more like an adult, but there was no doubt she'd cut it in due time. 

She filled up the kitchen sink with hot, soapy water and dipped the sleeve into it, rubbing it spotless with a sponge. "So, what happened?"

"Some other cadets were picking on someone," he explained. "Naturally, I stood up for him. Although, I got into a fistfight with the biggest guy, and busted his nose... They never bothered either of us again."

She grinned. "That was very courageous of you."

Roy smiled in return. "That's what Hughes said."

"Hughes?"

"The guy who I stood up for. He's great, he really is."

"It looks like the start of a friendship to last, then."

Roy nodded. "Yes... Yes, it does."

Riza wrung out the material, displaying a lack of a red stain on its deep-blue hue. "How's that?"

"Wonderful. Thank you again," Roy responded, rising from his chair to stroll over and then taking his coat from her grip and slipped it back on. 

"I was right about what I said on the day we first met," Riza spoke softly, reminiscing, placing one hand on her hips.

"Right about what?" He asked inquisitively. 

"You're far too polite for your own good, Roy Mustang."

He chuckled. "Would you prefer it if I wasn't?"

"No," came the firm reply. She then stepped forward and clasped the buttons of his uniform coat with cold fingers, fastening them up for him. "I like you the way you are."

"I'm most grateful. And I like you the way you are too, Miss Hawkeye."

Riza smiled at his charm, and there was a short pause as they gazed into each others eyes before Roy continued:

"In fact... I think I love you."

With a slight hesitation, she said with a tut: "Don't say that. Surely it's not true."

"Do you want me to prove it for you?" Roy asked, leaning in close enough to feel her breath. He was almost challenging her, but as she gazed deeply into his dark eyes, Riza sighed softly. 

"Save it for another time," she replied, winking discreetly, mischievously. "Your tea is going cold, anyway."

Riza had noticed that Roy had a slight habit of not drinking his tea. He had noticed himself on a few occasions, but didn't think much of it. For Riza, it was amusing, yet irritating that she'd put all that effort into making an excellent cup of tea only for nobody to drink it. 

Roy glanced at her apologetically, sitting back down at the table and trying to ignore the weird sensation coming from his sodden arm. 

"You know," Roy began, rather dejectedly. "I have a feeling that the military will be sending me off to Ishval sometime soon."

"What?" Riza stammered, taken aback by the strike of a different kind of conversation. "Why?"

"They need the soldiers to fight the war, right? I mean, I know it's only just kicked off, but there were rumours amongst the cadets that he higher-ups were thinking of sending the State Alchemists in to be used as weapons."

Riza's most hung upon for a bored moment before she could speak. "But you're not a weapon..."

"I am now," came his answer. He swigged the last of his tea and then smiled at Riza in a bittersweet sort-of way. "Don't worry. I'll be fine. They've trained me for this, and Master Hawkeye's alchemy helps a great deal."

She sighed exasperatedly. "I know, I understand. I'm just being selfish. Of course you'll be fine; don't go doing anything recklessly stupid, though."

"No promises there," chuckled Roy. 

"I would stand by your side through that war if I could. I fight by your side, too."

He stared at Riza with gentle eyes, pained eyes. "I know you would."

"Roy, I'd follow you into hell if you'd ask me."

"I know you would," he said again. "But  it's too risky... There's one thing you could do for me, though?"

"Anything," she responded confidently.

"I need you to wait for me, Riza, here where it's safe. Could you do that?"

She gave a affirmative nod. "I'd wait for centuries."

Roy's mouth curled into a smirk. "Always the brave one, aren't you?"

"Always," Riza lifted up her mug- a toast. "To the brave!"

Roy held up his own, the smile refusing to disappear. "To the brave..."


End file.
